


The Craving

by dr_zook



Category: Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Other, Tagging Nightmare, canon horsepreg, canon mpreg, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook
Summary: Loki is pregnant with Sleipnir and pays Viðar a visit.





	The Craving

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted years ago in my LJ, and I'm pretty sure it was the response to a great writer I met there-- but I forgot their name! I'm really sorry about that. Hit me up if you're the one! Your ideas about Norse Mythology (for example pregnant Loki's craving for grapes) were fantastic. ♥

"It's not healthy." Viðar's brow crinkles. "I think."  
  
"You think so," the trickster repeats, sounding both amused and irritated.   
  
"It's not like I have... witnessed... such things before."  
  
"I truly don't hope so," Loki murmurs. His left front hoof (you can call it like that, can't you?) starts trembling a bit. The clacking sound reverberates in Viðar's hall. He feels cold and fucking fat. Immobile. Vulnerable.   
  
Viðar's warm hand draws nearer, probably aimed to soothe. Loki prances. "Don't touch me," he bristles and flings back his sorrel mane. "And get me more grapes."  
  
"I really don't think--"  
  
"No, I agree. You should leave that to the ones, who're used to it. Like me. And I want grapes now. It's not like apples are the only fruits around... My hall is fucking overflowing with apples, I tell you."  
  
"That's the only reason you're here, I guess." Landviði's leaves rustle softly, and stray sunbeams paint dance around the taciturn áss.   
  
"My place is a goddamned bedlam right now," Loki huffs, trudges eventually closer to Viðar who is allowed to pet his flank this time. Laufey's son shoves his nostrils into the other's armpit and snuffles. "Grapes, please?"


End file.
